


all we ever do is all we ever knew

by cerakuro



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Swearing, it's set like. after tri but i honestly cannot remember what happened in tri so get fucked, lots of banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27429691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerakuro/pseuds/cerakuro
Summary: In which things are the same as always. School, hanging out, teasing and joking; but this time, there are feelings, too.
Relationships: Ishida Yamato | Matt Ishida/Yagami Taichi | Tai Kamiya
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	all we ever do is all we ever knew

**Author's Note:**

> hey so fun fact this was inspired by khan academy questions I was doing for English class. specifically the "first, you say that you weren’t hungry, now you’re eating my fries." line and im like,,,,,,, 70% sure that the other one is the "are you really still upset that I had to cancel dinner plans we made a year ago?" part. I'm crazy I'm psycho I'm lit rally fucking insane

“Fuck-  _ Taichi! _ You’re such a fucking vulture!” Yamato exclaims, loudly- while swatting Taichi away from his food.

He looks- absolutely flabbergasted.

“First, you say that you weren’t hungry, now you’re eating my fries. What’s next? Are you going to put on a tinfoil hat and to try to convince me that the moon landing was faked? And that our government is run by lizards?” Yamato snorted, sounding a mixture of unimpressed, amused, and something along the lines of ‘I expected this of you so I ordered a large fry instead of a medium’.

Despite the complaints- and him whacking Taichi for eating his fries- he really didn’t actually care that he was, indeed, eating his fries. He only gave him a light glare after Taichi continued to pick at them. In more of an, ‘I’m going to pretend to be upset at you’ than an ‘I am going to fucking obliterate you if you eat one more fucking fry, Yagami’ sort of way.

The fast-food restaurant was pretty packed, for the relatively small place that it was; so their over-the-top banter wasn’t drawing too much attention to itself. Chatter and conversations mixing into one big blur of background noise. A confusing jumble of sounds that really didn’t deserve to be deciphered.

“Well,  _ maybe  _ I wouldn’t be hungry if some  _ jackass  _ didn’t bail on me for dinner!” 

“Are you really still upset that I had to cancel dinner plans we made a year ago? Get your head out of your ass, Taichi.” 

“I’m not upset!” He immediately counters. He wasn’t upset- really. They meet up almost every week to hang out, one dinner didn’t mean much of anything. It’s just a missed opportunity to make Yamato pay for his food. The blond in question, of course, rolls his eyes at the response. Taichi continues talking, though- of course- he can’t ever stop talking; forcefully demonstrating with his hands by sizing up his head, to show the comparison in size, “And look here- asshole, do you think my head is anywhere near small enough to fit inside my own ass?”

The blond flicks a french fry at his forehead- not missing a beat. “Your brain sure is! Maybe if we shaved all of that stupid hair off you could figure out the answer for your own damn self!” 

“Hey- fuck you! I  _ like _ my hair. You’re just jealous that I don’t need to turn my hair into a  _ brick  _ every morning to get it to stand up.” He retaliates, maturely- by sticking his tongue out. Y’know, as mature to-be adults do- who have mature conversations with their equally mature friends about something mature. Taichi doesn’t even COMMENT on the ‘we’ thing. It’s not like shaving his head is a  _ group activity  _ or something like that. Just look at how mature he is.

He responds with another eye-roll, a classic Yamato move. “Jealous? Yeah right. Next time I want to look like an animal made a permanent home in my hair I’ll come to you first.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!”

“It  _ means  _ that your hair looks stupid!”

“Thanks, Mr. Teenage-Heart-Throb! I’ll keep that in mind for when I die and reincarnate into my next life!” Taichi retorted. While he was putting up the front of being upset- he couldn’t repress the grin on his face. His hair was- for a lack of better words- an uncontrollable mess. It’s not like he hasn’t  _ tried  _ to make it look nice before. But it’s really hopeless. His mother used to fuss over it when he was younger but quickly gave up- because brushing it only seemed to disturb the monster. 

It’s never really been something that bothered Taichi, but yeah. Realistically, the only way to tame his hair is to reincarnate and hope for better hair.

It’s not  _ his  _ fault his hair is like this anyways. He doesn’t have super smooth and easy-to-handle hair like a certain blond bastard around here. His hair probably feels like silk and has that kinda feeling that makes you want to repeatedly run your hand through it over and over again, like the effortlessly perfect motherfucker that he is.

Not that Taichi wants to run his hand through his best friend’s hair or anything like that. That would be ridiculous. And stupid. And Taichi is only one of those things.

“You don’t need to die to get a haircut!” Yamato exclaims. He sounds more exasperated than anything. Which is- absolutely hilarious on all accounts. He leans closer, almost as if he was interrogating him. Not quite frowning- but making one of those faces. One of those Yamato faces. “You’ve had the same hairstyle since you were a baby.”

Taichi frowns. “Not true!” This was true.

“You are so full of shit,” Yamato interjects loudly- fishing out his phone out of his pocket to check whatever notification just buzzed at his phone, “I’ve seen your baby pictures, Taichi.” 

Taichi blows him off- leaning back into his seat. (Har har, blows him off. He can FEEL his inner 13-year-old laughing)

“Yeah, whatever.” He huffs out in not-quite defeat, “I was a gorgeous baby. Just as charming as now, actually.” He strikes a pose to emphasize his point. A charming pose, of course. Taichi interlocks his fingers together and holds them up towards his own face with a smile. Sort of like those creepy hand-drawn babies on old tv products. The ones with jolly cheeks and stupidly big eyes.

Yamato doesn’t react though- he’s just staring discontent at his phone. Taichi blinks. 

He looks like he is about to say something; his mouth is hanging open slightly- the wisps of words forming on his tongue. 

He closes his mouth instead and sighs. He absentmindedly slips his phone back into his pocket to then start awkwardly running his fingers through his own hair. He’s not really paying attention anymore. “Keep telling yourself that,” the blond snorts blandly. Taichi drops the pose.

His leg is bouncing now, Taichi observes. He raises an eyebrow, and Yamato only shrugs in response. His face has gone completely neutral. “Anyway, I got a gig with the band on Saturday. I have an extra ticket since Takeru had to cancel. You want to come?”

“Oh he had to cancel, did he now? Maybe it’s karma biting you back in the a-” Taichi is, of course, interrupted, as Yamato throws a light punch at his stomach that he is only  _ barely  _ able to dodge. Taichi puts his hands up in the air as a sign of defeat- while Yamato tries to do everything other than glare at him for the comment. He can’t help but laugh. That bastard. “Alright, alright! Saturday, you said? I’ll have to check my schedule. What time?”

“8 pm,” Yamato answers, again, rather blandly. “I’d recommend getting there early though. Unless you want to be stuck at the back.” 

Taichi nods thoughtfully. While he hasn’t been to one of Yamato’s concerts in awhile- he does remember how crazy his fans can be. Actually, they might be the same level of craziness as any other fans- but he honestly hasn’t been to enough concerts to tell. You could play two notes on the opposite end of the scale and he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. If that isn’t an indicator of his musical prowess he doesn’t know what is. So no. He hasn’t been to many concerts in his life.

He does recall the vivid image of the screaming fangirls- and the feeling of his ears being blown out by said screams. They’re all so intense and crazy over a guy that they don’t even know. What do they want to do? Kiss him? They’re gonna hold his hand or something like that? They’re gonna oggle over his stupid pretty face? That stupid, punchable, face? 

He can kinda see the appeal, if he squints hard enough. His face has that kinda masculine but also feminine look to it which makes him conventionally attractive. Okay, so maybe Taichi doesn’t exactly have to  _ squint  _ to see that his best friend is, for a lack of better words, hot. He doesn’t need to get scientific about it. 

But it’s not really like he wants to kiss him or something like that, though. He wouldn’t even know what kissing another guy would be like. Gross, probably. And weird. 

He thinks for a moment- before his mind supplies him with the vivid mental image of what it would be like and- woah.  _ Woah _ . He immediately blanches.

“Aw, I don’t even get special seating? Even though I’m your very bestest friend? Your one and only? Your boo?” Taichi teases. Yamato makes one of those faces in response and Taichi tries his best not to stare. It’s not even like this face is that kissable. He doesn’t want to kiss him, really, but he can’t get the thought out of his head once he’s thought of it. Like all intrusive thoughts.

Yamato scores a kick from under the table while Taichi has an internal panic, “Shut up! You’re already getting a free ticket.” 

Taichi can only roll his eyes, “It’s the ‘Best Friend’s discount’. Of  _ course  _ I’d get a free ticket, Yamato.” They both know the free ticket thing is bullshit. Taichi used to get free tickets all of the time. And if that wasn’t already a dead giveaway, the killer is the look Yamato is giving him while he’s trying his best not to smile. What an asshole.

Taichi grabs his phone out of his pocket to check his schedule to see if he is, indeed, free on Saturday (not before failing to find and open his calendar several times). An “Ah.” sound blurts out of his mouth and Yamato’s eyebrows hike up. “Hey, can I hitch a ride with you?” 

Yamato blinks, barely even considering the request. “What? No way.”

Taichi frowns. “Huh? Come on, Yamato! I don’t want to miss out on my all-time favourite band, Knife of Teenage Wolves- or whatever!” 

“It’s ‘Knife of Day’!” Yamato all but barks. He is very well aware that Taichi knows exactly what it is but still consistently corrects him anyway. Which just makes Taichi purposefully mess it up more. Y’know. For shits and giggles and all that jazz. He probably hasn’t said their name right for at least 4 months now. Not to him, anyway. 

Taichi cocks an eyebrow in temptation. “Yeah? Whatever, Knife of  _ Spoon-  _ I need a ride. My car is going in for repairs and my ass is gonna be broke. I’ll have to like- carpool with your fangirls otherwise.” 

Taichi really hopes he does not have to carpool with Yamato’s fans. While that’s mostly a joke- if Yamato’s gonna be enough of an ass about it he might actually have to. He seriously is gonna be broke after he pays for his goddamn car. Insurance gave him the big ol’ fuck you. AKA he’s probably going to be surviving off of hopes and dreams and late-night grocery shopping for the next month or two at the earliest. And the stupid fucking vending machine soba as well. “And I KNOW you’re driving there- I’ve been in the stupid van you ride in and I know it goes right by my apartment. So don’t even TRY it with me.”

“And?” Yamato deadpans. He is-- not even remotely more convinced than before. Wow.

“What do you mean ‘ _ And’ _ ? What do you expect me to do? Teleport to the venue? Yeah, I’m sure that’ll work out!” Taichi retorts sarcastically. The hell does Yamato think he’ll do? Open up a digital gate to get there? Get Koushiro to design a whole ass teleportation device just so he can be there on time? Does he think he’ll walk- like 4 hours- to get there? There’s a difference between being fit and being insane.

“Figure something out! I don’t know! I don’t have time to pick you up. It’s not my fault you suck at driving and broke your car!”

“Come  _ on _ , Yamato, pretty please?” Taichi begs. If he wasn’t already sitting down he would probably be on his hands and knees or something to dramatically beg to him. He tries his best to look like a kicked puppy for the extra punch.

There’s a long stretch of silence before either of them say anything. Long for them, anyway. The background chatter became more apparent than before. Yamato just looks away and runs his fingers through his hair again coolly, albeit, sort of awkwardly. He looks disgruntled- and Taichi can’t even  _ begin  _ to fathom whatever the hell he’s thinking about. It’s really not even a big request. He has no idea why he’s making a big deal about it for any reason other than to just be an ass for the sake of being an ass. Which is- admittedly something that he is known to do.

Like really, it’s not like he just asked him to fly to the moon with him.

Yamato sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be at your place at 4 to pick you up.”

Taichi’s eyebrows raise, “4? Doesn’t it start at 8?” 

“We have to get there early to prepare, dumbass. Make sure everything sounds ok- and do some warm-ups beforehand. Plus your lame ass probably won’t even be awake at 4.” The blond answers, pulling yet another eye-roll. He seems to be on a roll with those today.

“Hey! How late do you think I sleep in exactly?”

“Late enough that you somehow missed the bus for our school trip- which, might I add, was at 6 pm.” Yamato tries to say blankly- as if he was stating a fact (which is probably because he is, most definitely stating a fact) but Taichi did not miss the way his voice cracked into a laugh at the end of his sentence. He’s trying to suppress a stupid grin on his stupid face. The infection that is Yamato’s smile, creeps its way over to Taichi’s face as well.

“That was in 9th grade! Years ago! There’s no way I could do something like that now.” He says dismissively, waving his hand casually in emphasis, “And I had a dreadful soccer game the night before- you’re not giving me the benefit of the doubt.”

Yamato leaned back and laughed. Like a stifled release of the amusement he’s been trying to suppress this entire time (probably to keep up his self-imposed ‘cool guy’ bravado). “I don’t think you deserve the benefit of the doubt, really- Taichi, it was  _ 6 pm _ . Your parents thought you left already for the trip and then were- reasonably-  _ astounded  _ when you came waltzing out of your room later in the night.”

“You’re acting like it was all my fault that I didn’t get up in time!” Taichi, rather defensively, shot back. Of course not really being serious- but he feels the innate need to defend himself anyway.

Yamato interjects, grinning, “It  _ is _ your fault, moron!”

“Oh yeah? I seem to remember a  _ certain someone _ calling me at 2 AM on the night before the trip in a panic because y-”

_ “Taichi!” _ Yamato interrupts, sounding a mixture of exasperated and also embarrassed, _ “ _ At least  _ I  _ actually got up on time.”

“Yeah- yeah. Whatever.” Taichi replies, leaning back in his chair to stare at that particular water stain on the ceiling. The one that kinda looks like a dick if you squint hard enough. The one that they probably should paint over before some poor kid looks up and realizes it. 

The fast-food place is quiet now, actually. People must have left after the afternoon rush. “The point is- I’m not going to sleep in again. This is important to you- right? I won’t miss it. Even if I have to bike there or something.” He inwardly rolls his eyes at the thought. His bike would probably get stolen or something. He forgot what his bike lock combination even was.

There’s another pause- and Taichi almost thinks Yamato straight up left. He scoots back up in his chair to see that- no, Yamato has not left- he is instead just staring at him like a deer in the headlights. His face flushed champagne pink. Shocked- but also kinda contemplative. It’s hard to describe and Taichi has never been good with picking up on changes in people’s faces- or deciphering what they mean. 

Whatever the fuck expression he is making- it’s making Taichi feel just as flustered. And warm. Very warm.

Taichi feels embarrassed, somehow. Questioning him with a harsh “What? Why are you giving me that look?”

“What look?” Yamato instantly shoots back, as if he was programmed to say this response. He’s so full of shit.

“That look! Right there!” Taichi pushes.

“I wasn’t giving you a look!” Yamato insists.

His frown deepens. Okay. Whatever. Yamato’s getting his back up about this for no reason so Taichi’s going to drop it. Of course he’s going to be an ass about it, though. That’s half the fun. 

“Yes, you were! You looked like you were thinking about how much you  _ love  _ your best friend and how  _ forever grateful _ you are to have someone as  _ cool  _ as me in your life.” Taichi teases, sarcastically, in an effort to push the conversation. “Even after you tried to kill me because a tree told you to.”

The blond jabs him in the stomach. Again. But smiling now, and looking considerably less like he wanted to pound Taichi into a fine pulp. “Shut up! You’re such a jerk, Taichi.” His voice has gone all grumbly- and Taichi has already forgotten about whatever the hell just happened between the two of them.

“Whatever you say- Mr. Crest-of-Friendship.” Taichi sticks his tongue out- and Yamato makes a similar face at him in response. It’s like they’ve reverted back to being 11 again. “Say, is there a dress code I need to abide by? This is a fancy venue, yeah? It’s not gonna be some kid’s garage or something.”

Yamato instantly pauses. 

“What.” 

Taichi frowns at his friend’s question- if he should even call it that. It sounded more like a statement rather than a question. “What do you mean ‘what’? It’s not rocket science. And even if it was- that’s literally your major! I’m asking if I should show up in khakis and a dress shirt or if I can walk in there in my  _ birthday suit _ -”

He cuts him off though, leaning to peer at his face with a surprising amount of seriousness to it, “No, no, rewind for a moment.  _ You’re _ asking me what clothes you should wear?”

Taichi falters at the sudden interrogation, only managing to reply with a fragmented “H-huh?”

“When did you start caring about clothing? Last time I checked, your wardrobe consisted of 3 pairs of jeans and some sweatpants with a couple of shirts. The  _ last  _ concert I had- you showed up in your  _ soccer gear _ covered in mud because, and I quote, you were, ‘too lazy to change,’” Yamato’s face suddenly shifts, concerned, but then starts pinching Taichi’s cheeks for whatever reason. “Did you hit your head or something? Is this a call for help?”

“No! I just…” Taichi trails off. He isn’t even sure himself what he was trying to say. He feels warm again, “wanted to make sure.” 

Yamato inspects him for a couple more moments before sighing, loudly- and leaning away from Taichi’s face. Which makes him feel… relieved? Something like that weird german word…- Sehnsucht? Actually- he doesn’t know how he feels right now. Not quite relieved but maybe- sad. There’s a weird tuff of air between them right now and Taichi can’t really identify it. Yamato probably could, not that he’d ask him. He’s always so perceptive about everything and Taichi hates it. “It’s just casual clothing- for the most part. I wouldn’t recommend showing up like you just had a mud bath this time, though.” 

“Hey!”

“Just-” He starts, holding his breath on the word- before releasing it quickly, “don’t think about it too much. If you couldn’t tell already- thinking isn’t exactly your strong suit. We don’t want our  _ precious leader _ to end up hospitalized by him trying to think for a change.”

“You’re exaggerating. I’ll have you  _ know _ I’m actually doing very well in my classes right now. Which, by the way, if you didn’t know, require me to think.”

The blond looks completely unconvinced, “Uh-huh, and my partner Digimon is demidevimon.”

“I said I was doing well!” Taichi insists.

“What exactly is ‘well’?”

Taichi grins,

“Not failing.”

\----

Thursday night rolls around and he’s at his parent’s house again to visit Hikari. For their usual brother/sister bonding time. Agumon tags along too, probably so he can raid the snack cupboard later on in the night- because Taichi’s house is SERIOUSLY lacking in snacks right now. He also might be raiding the snack cupboard later on too with how things are going. He doesn’t want to leech off of Koushiro forever.

Taichi’s lounging around on the couch spread out pretty much like a starfish. He’s hogging up (pretty much) all of the space while he can. Hikari is in the kitchen making food, Agumon is eating food at the dining table, and his parents won’t be home this weekend because of something that happened with his grandma. He’s not too sure what happened. By the way his parents were all hush-hush about it when he asked, he didn’t press. 

“So,” Hikari leans over the couch to look at Taichi- which causes him to jump slightly. He barely even heard her walk up over to him. She’s like a ninja sometimes. A ninja who only ever uses her powers for evil purposes, though. 

Hikari is holding a bowl of that caramel popcorn she’s been into recently- and a couple of cokes. “What movie are we watching?”

He makes a non-committal hum as he re-adjusts himself on the couch, then a couple of seconds later clarifying, “Whatever you want. I think I picked last time.” Tailmon- who Taichi hardly noticed sitting up on the living room chair- nods to confirm. 

Hikari places the popcorn and drinks down on the table and then turns to shoos his legs away with her hand, with a meaning that can only be deciphered as ‘scoot before I sit on your legs.’ 

Taichi complies, of course. She’s 15 now she might actually sit on his legs. You can never know with teenage girls. 

“How about we watch that one soccer movie you wanted to see? I think it just came out on Netflix now.” Hikari suggests. 

“No- I saw that with Yamato a couple weeks ago.”

Her eyebrows arch slightly. Cocked up in curiosity and probably some sort of mischief. It’s a small movement- but it makes Taichi sit up immediately. Imminent danger. “Oh? You’ve been hanging out with Yamato a lot recently. Is there something going on?”

Tailmon must have caught onto the same movement on Hikari’s face, as the cat proceeded to jump off the one-seater and walk away from the conversation into Hikari’s bedroom. She’s never been one to particularly care for this type of conversation. Taichi wished he could do the same.

“We always hang out,” Taichi replies, dismissively. It’s true, they always hang out. That’s not incorrect or anything like that. He has no idea why he feels so embarrassed about the way Hikari is looking at him right now. “I’m going to see one of his concerts on Saturday, actually. Pray for me that I don’t get trampled by his fans.”

“Is it just you going?” She asks. Taichi blinks. He doesn’t know what she’s up to but he’s positive that it’s not good. He needs to choose his steps very wisely now. Or whatever the saying is, he honestly can’t remember.

“Yeah,” he says, carefully, “Takeru had to cancel, I think. I don’t believe anyone else is coming.” Not that he asked, Yamato could’ve invited the rest of the gang and Taichi would have been none the wiser. It didn’t sound like that, though.

“Interesting,” She says, calmly, an unassuming smile painted on her face. Most people would probably be reassured at this moment- Hikari has that effect on people- but Taichi knows his sister too well. He has a feeling that the conversation was set up- carefully scripted, it just flows too well- there is definitely somethin- “so it’s like, a date?”

Huh?

“What?” He can feel an ugly warmth rushing to his face, his face scrunches up in reflex, “No! It’s not a  _ date _ , Hikari. I’m just going to see his concert. He’s my best friend.”

It’s NOT a date. Taichi isn’t even interested in Yamato. They’re best friends. Best friends don’t go on dates. It’s just Taichi going to Yamato’s concerts. They used to do that all of the time. That’s not a weird thing to do. 

He doesn’t know why he needs to reassure himself on this- but oh man is he reassuring himself alright. Though, he’s definitely convincing himself more than he’s convincing Hikari.

Speaking of the devil, Hikari is just sitting there smiling innocently. As if her question didn’t just absolutely destroy her brother for no reason he can discern. As if she didn’t know exactly what she just did. He can’t help but feel embarrassed.

Taichi feels a small tug at his sleeve. Agumon has appeared at his side. Oh no.

“Taichi,” the yellow dino starts, wide eyes peering straight at him, Taichi feels way more nervous than he should, probably for a multitude of reasons, “You look ill. Are you hungry?”

“N-no. I’m not hungry.” 

“Then what’s wrong?” 

Hikari cuts in, “He’s going on a date.”

Words can’t come out of his mouth fast enough, “It’s not a date, Hikari!”

“What’s a date?” Agumon asks, as he sits up on the couch between the siblings- stealing some of the popcorn along the way. Taichi, once again, blinks. 

This is it. 

This is the day he dies.

“It’s- uh,” He says, intelligently.

“It’s what two people do when they like each other.” Hikari finishes for him. He’s grateful for a moment- only to remember that she’s the one that put him in this situation. He retracts the thankful-ness immediately.

“Hmm…” Agumon stops vacuuming the caramel popcorn into his mouth for a moment to contemplate what was just said. He’s certainly not dumb- despite what people think of him. His questions always come from a standpoint of innocence and wanting to understand- rather than being unintelligent. But at this time, Taichi wishes Agumon  _ was  _ just a  _ little  _ bit dumber. “So who does Taichi like?”

“I DON’T- like… anyone.” He struggles to finish his sentence. Holy fuck. 

“Who do you think Taichi likes?” Hikari asks kindly to Agumon. Taichi gives her a glare.

“Is it someone I know?” the dinosaur asks.

“No! It’s none of your business!” Taichi growls.

“Yes, you do know them.” Hikari corrects. Hikari seems to be ignoring Taichi in an effort to get Agumon to say something specific. He has no idea what’s going on but he feels like dying. It’s middle school all over again.

“Hmm…” Agumon repeats the sound from before- but in a more-loaded tone. He’s thinking and Taichi really wishes he wasn’t. 

He can only sit in silence while he awaits for Agumon to guess. He wants to hear it. He doesn’t want to hear it. The penny drops. 

“Is it... Yamato?”

“I don’t like Yamato!” Taichi freaks, slightly. Okay, maybe more than slightly- but it wasn’t as if he digivolved into a feral animal and went apeshit. He just said that a bit more loudly than he should’ve. He’s also trying desperately to ignore the shit-eating grin on his sister’s face- who of which looks like she just proved something, big time.

“You don’t?” Agumon partially echoes, “But Taichi, you always spend time with him… and you’re always happier when he’s around! Even when you fight. Doesn’t that mean you like him?” 

“No-! I. We-” Taichi clears his throat, “He’s my best friend. It doesn’t mean I like him in that way.”

Hikari immediately sits upright and frowns.

Her tone shifting to sympathetic and concerned- the cockiness quickly draining away from her face. It’s replaced with a seriousness that he can’t quite describe. “Taichi, why can’t you just accept that y-”

“No.” He repeats, firmly, before Hikari can ever even hope to finish her sentence. 

He’s honestly kinda stunned at himself by how he sounded. His voice came out more violent than he ever intended it to. Raw. Like a desperate pull inside of him to not hear- to  _ never  _ hear what she was going to say. Hikari just looks kinda shocked. Pulled back. He feels like a complete asshole. 

Taichi turns back to the TV- the only thing he can even think of using to not make this a shitshow- his voice comes out in a quiet grumble, “...Whatever. Let’s just watch the movie.” 

He slumps back into the couch- grabbing the remote and begins to pull up that one soccer movie. Who cares if he’s already seen it. He really doesn’t want to think of another movie to watch right now.

Hikari’s mouth opens again as if she wanted to say something- but quickly closes it and follows suit- leaning back into her seat carefully. Taichi’s face feels like it’s been stained with heat- but all he can do is pull a frown.

As they start to settle into the movie- he can feel his chest start to ache, it’s so dumb and Taichi tries his best to ignore it. To focus on anything else. To pretend it’s not there. But he can’t. The worst part is- that deep down, he knows where the feeling is coming from. He knows what it is. He knows it all too well. It’s the same feeling that caused him not to end the conversation sooner. The same feeling that caused him to lash out at his sister.

God. 

He’s so fucked.

\----

  
  


Okay, so maybe Hikari was right. Maybe his feelings go past what “normal” friendships usually do. But who’s to say that means anything? Right?

He’s not dumb. He knows what Hikari was trying to say. It doesn’t mean it was anything he was going to accept, though.

It’s Friday night, and he’s been in bed for the last 4 hours on his phone having a crisis. His search history is honestly a mess right now. Featuring such hits as “What does it mean if I want to kiss my best friend?” and “How do I apologize for being a complete dick to my sister when she was trying to tell me something important and I wasn’t listening to her?”

He feels like a fucking clown. The whole ass circus. He just wants answers but he doesn’t want to listen to the answers when they’re given to him. 

He hates being in this state. This state of confusion where he doesn't even know what his feelings are. The state of not knowing how he really feels, which forces him to sift through clues hidden in his behaviour, as if he were some other person- noticing a twist of acid in his own voice, or an obscene amount of effort put into something trifling. He’s searching through his own memories- and thinking back to try to prove something. Anything. He’s desperate for answers- just a conclusion. He wants a feeling of closure more than anything right now.

It’s so dumb, and he’s spent too long trying to think about this. His brain hurts. What the hell, man.

The stupid part is that he’s known what the answer was for so long already he just didn’t want to admit it. He was looking for clues and hanging onto every single piece of evidence that would point to anything other than what the situation was. It’s this constant back and forth battle that’s been raging in his head that’s causing him a massive headache.

The Crest of Courage? He’s never been more worried and frightened in his life over something so trivial- something so dumb- something that really didn’t matter. He just feels like he’s running away- and he can practically HEAR Yamato’s voice in his head calling him out verbatim. 

The more he thinks about it the more he realizes how awkward things have gotten recently between the two of them. It’s hardly anything noticeable- but it’s just the little things that added up. The longer-than-usual pauses in their conversations, the awkward touching, and those lingering feelings in the air. Did Yamato pick up on whatever the hell Taichi was feeling and then start to act differently because of it? Fuck, dude. 

They’re best friends. They’ve been through hell together and lived to laugh about it another day. They fight, all of the time, but it’s part of the fun- and it’s hardly ever about anything serious anymore. Yamato is the number one person he’d rely on- and it’s probably the same for Yamato too. He’s super chill and fun to lounge around with- even when he’s being a complete dick. Taichi wouldn’t trade any of their time together for the world, which is a stupidly romantic thing to feel.

Taichi’s never been a romantic. He’s hardly ever thought much about romance, really. Partially because he’s always thought he’d be like, dead, or something, by the time he hits 20, but also because there was always stuff going on. World-ending catastrophes, with only the Chosen able to stop them. He’s the leader- he always needed to stay focused. It was his job. There was no time to be worrying about stuff like that. Other people wouldn’t understand.

But things have calmed down and he finds his mind wandering more and more. He feels guilty about it, too. He feels guilty about a lot of things, actually.

Taichi kicks up the sheets on his bed and tries to sit up, his legs hanging off the bed itself- itching to stand up in search of like, water, or something, to soothe his headache. He’s been laying in his bed for too long. You can only stare at your ceiling for so long before it starts to stare back at you. He’s pretty sure he could draw a 1-to-1 recreation of his ceiling at this point (if he could actually draw, or had any artistic ability, that is).

The door of his fridge is cold to touch. Probably because it’s metal. But it makes him just want to rub his face against it for a hot moment (or a cold moment), but he ultimately pushes past that feeling to grab a water bottle and crack it open.

So what if he might have potential romantic feelings for his best friend? So what? Huh? Who cares! Certainly not Taichi. It doesn’t change anything. He can just pretend they’re not there. He’s been living with them for however-long now- and he didn’t even know he had them! How hard is it to pretend? (He has a feeling, based on his acting skills in school, that it is, very, very hard)

Maybe he could just get a concussion or something. That would be a lot easier. Amnesia. He’d forget all about…  _ this _ . Maybe things could go back to normal then, too.

Who is he kidding? Taichi walks out to his balcony to... 

to…

He doesn’t know why, actually. It’s just what people do in movies when they’re deep in thought. It’s scenic and helps you think, he guesses. His own feet seemed to wander their way over here by themselves. They’re searching for answers in their own way. Taichi’s pretty compliant on where his feet drag him. He needs fresh air anyway.

Hikari had figured out that he liked Yamato even before TAICHI figured out he liked Yamato. Hell, even Agumon figured it out. Does everyone know? Does Yamato know? He starts to panic, slightly.

He’s racked his brain for answers- but he’s not even sure when it started, either. Or how it started, for that matter. Though he’s not too sure how important that is. It’s just  _ here _ . And now he has to figure out how to deal with it. It’s like if someone just handed him a grenade and said ‘have fun’ then walked off.

For a moment he wished Agumon  _ wasn’t _ at Koushiro’s- just so he could talk to someone about this. People say it just helps to verbalize your thoughts. It’d be nice to get it out there. He’s considering screaming it out off of the balcony of his apartment but he doesn’t want to get kicked out of his complex.

Then again, he doesn’t think Agumon has much knowledge on this topic, either. They’d both just be kinda sitting there- at a loss for answers. And he’s not too sure how willing he’d be to talk, despite probably needing to. And kinda really wanting to. It’s touchy.

So, what should he do? What’s the right thing to do here?

Probably to just tell him, he hears himself say in a matter-of-fact tone- and instantly recoils at the idea. Thanks, he  _ hates  _ it.

What would his parents think? What would his friends think? 

They probably wouldn’t care, now that he’s thinking about it. They’d be supportive of him no matter what. But he feels insecure, anyway.

He sighs to himself, levelling his body against the railing of the balcony. He tries his best to stuff his face into his own outstretched arms. He knows what he should do, really. He should just tell him. It’s probably going to come out somehow anyway, since it’s apparently very easy to guess, and he’d rather be the one to say it. He’d rather be in control of the situation, and he’s so tired of dancing around this.

They’ve been through everything together. It’s not like something like this is going to break their friendship. He’s not sure anything could break their friendship, at this point. The worst that could happen is they get in a fight. Which he doesn’t see happening. Yamato is an understanding person, for the most part. Even if he can be one of the biggest dicks Taichi’s ever met, only second to himself.

He can already kinda picture it now, with Yamato just going “Oh.” or something. Then it’s never brought up again, both agreeing to sweep under the rug and pretend it didn’t happen like all other of their other unresolved issues. The things that neither of them want to acknowledge. But things will carry on. And he’s ok with that.

He doesn’t really care at this point what Yamato’s response is. He just needs to say it. To move on, y’ know? He needs to get it out of his system.

Hell, he doesn’t know if Yamato even LIKES guys. Taichi didn’t even know HE liked guys. But he has to say something. He has to.

So, whatever. Sure. He’s going to just say it tomorrow. Or something. Fuck it. He’s been tip-toeing around this for too long he has to rip off the bandaid. It’s better sooner than later and he really can’t put in enough effort to care anymore. He’s so tired of being… not himself about this. 

He should probably call Hikari to apologize, she didn’t deserve him getting upset with her over something like this. She was trying to help and didn’t think he was this touchy over the subject.

He fishes out his phone from his pocket and scrambles to find his sister’s contact, despite it being pretty high up on his call-list. He feels a bit out of it.

Taichi absentmindedly hovers his thumb over the call button for a few moments in hesitation. He’s going to have to tell her everything. For her, and for him. It’s the only way he’ll be able to make sense of this.

He doesn’t have to be the strong leader right now. Right now, he’s Taichi Yagami. Not a Chosen, not the bearer of the Crest of Courage, just Taichi. 

It’s okay. That’s okay. It’s okay to let your walls down. It’s okay.

What siblings are for, right?

Decidedly, he hits the call button.

Here we go.

  
  


\----

Saturday. It's Saturday. And Taichi is hardly even ready. Yamato is coming in like, five minutes and Taichi is literally standing in the middle of his room in his underwear. 

It’s not HIS fault his alarm clock died. Right? It was completely by chance and completely out of his control. It has nothing to do with the fact that he accidentally kicked out the chord that was plugging his alarm into the wall last night while trying to find where he dropped his socks. Or the fact that he had stayed up pretty late thinking about— yeah. 

But seriously, he is so fucked. 

Yamato said he should just wear whatever. But knowing Yamato, that means something completely different than what that would-  _ literally-  _ mean. He has no idea why he’s even remotely worked up over this. He normally just throws on whatever two articles of clothing he can get his grubby hands on and heads out the door. And it’s Yamato. The same guy who watched him create, and eat, the most horrendous hotdog with all of the condiments he could find last week. But again, it’s Yamato. The source of all of his problems, recently. The guy that—  _ yeah _ .

Taichi’s not one to care about appearances but FUCK if he isn’t weirdly stressed about what to wear for this concert. He hasn’t been to one of Yamato’s concerts in so long. This one is important, too. It’s probably his shamelessness catching up to him now that he’s an adult. He never used to care. He never did.

He should just call him. He’s probably almost here anyway. Yamato has a key to his room- with Taichi’s luck, he’s gonna walk in while he’s still in his underwear. 

Though, that is admittedly not the worst thing that Yamato’s walked in on. 

He scrambles around his room to find his phone- which is, thankfully, not dead. He actually remembered to charge it. He’s hoping that Yamato actually picks up- or else HE’S gonna be dead. By Yamato. How ironic.

Wait, fuck, Yamato’s driving here with his band, isn’t he? Is he driving? He wouldn’t be able to pick up his phone if he was. Unless he put him on speakerphone. For his whole band to listen to.

That actually probably wouldn’t be the weirdest conversation that they’ve overheard from the two of them, either. Like, last week when Taichi had called Yamato in the middle of his band practice and he started doing that fake-flirting thing that they sometimes do (which might not have been as fake as Taichi thought it was, according to his recent revelation)- without knowing that the entire band was listening in. Takeru was there, too, for whatever reason.

It hits him that he’s still standing in the middle of his room with just his underwear on while the sound of a- very familiar- knock on the door interrupts his thoughts. Fuck.

“I’m in my underwear.” Taichi blurts. It’s the first thing that comes to mind to tell him so he doesn’t walk in on him. The walls aren’t very thick and he’s standing pretty close to the door so he HOPES Yamato heard him. Taichi is so unbelievably lucky that Yamato chose to knock. He’s scrambling to find something to put on. Where the FUCK are his shirts.

A few seconds pass by before Taichi could hear a confused “What?” echo through the other side of the door.

“Dude, you have to help me. I have no idea what to wear.”

“...You’re not ready.” Yamato states. Not as a question.

“No?” Taichi replies. Sounding VERY unsure. How do you even reply to that.

Taichi can hear a facepalm. Followed by a deep sigh on Yamato’s end. A couple more short moments pass before the blond speaks again. “Ok. I’m coming in. Is that alright?” 

“Sure- but I’m in my underw-”

“I don’t care.”

“Oh,” Taichi says, dumbly.

It’s only as he hears the door open and Yamato’s footsteps start to walk in does he realize how fucking dumb he probably looks right now. He’s sitting down in the middle of his room with clothes scattered around him in a circle. And he’s basically naked.

Yamato’s eyebrows raise only slightly when he walks in on the sight. He stops for a moment- before choosing to cooly lean against the hallway wall. Arms crossed. And legs, too. “Are you trying to summon a clothing demon or something in here?” His tone is blank, but Taichi can kinda hear the faint sound of a laugh breaking up the end of his sentence. He’s not mad that Taichi is not ready, at least. He doesn’t seem to be in a particular rush, either.

“Hello to you, too.” Taichi huffs, “And yeah. Hopefully it’ll possess me to get a better fashion sense.”

“No, I don’t even think a clothing demon could do that. You’re a lost cause.” Yamato snorts, walking up to Taichi and his circle of clothing- crouching down to inspect the wares. “Didn’t I say that you could wear whatever?”

“Yeah, but you’re fucking weird. I started to overthink.”

This, is what surprised the blond. “You? Overthink?” He sounds genuinely shocked. Taichi doesn’t know if he should feel offended or not. “Wasn’t I just making fun of you a couple days ago for not thinking? Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“Whatever,” Taichi says, blatantly dismissive. “And no, I’m not sick. I didn’t hit my head either.” He adds, to clarify. Which, really doesn’t clarify anything. He’ll let Yamato look into that however the hell he wants- ‘cause Taichi kinda doesn’t want to explain that he has a MASSIVE crush on him and it’s been causing him to overthink literally everything. Especially right now.

Yamato peers at him for a couple more seconds, immediately noticing Taichi's complete dismissal of the topic. Yamato sometimes does this thing where he gets uncomfortably close to Taichi while he’s trying to analyze him. Taichi’s convinced it’s an interrogation tactic. Though it’s only now does Taichi realize that the blond’s face is slightly pink. He didn’t even notice before. It must’ve been like that when he came inside. How cold is it outside?

He opens his mouth as if to say something- but then closes it, sighing. Shaking his head, pulling one of those smiles. One of those Yamato smiles. Then, finally, let out a half-baked and semi-fond, “You’re so weird.”

Taichi frowns. “Am not!”

“Are too.”

“ _ You’re _ the weird one between the two of us!”

“Say that again when you aren’t sitting in your underwear in the middle of a clothing-ritual.” Yamato grins. Taichi blows a raspberry at him. “Speaking of which, here-” Yamato tossed him two pieces of clothing from the pile- which just (not so) accidentally happened to land on Taichi’s face, “put these on. We gotta go.”

“Aye aye, captain.” He starts to throw on whatever the hell Yamato just gave him. He didn’t even look at it. They’re his clothes, anyway. It’s not like he’s wearing anything he wouldn’t want to wear.

Yamato stands up and brushes his legs off instinctively. As if he collected dust just by crouching on Taichi’s floor. Taichi snorts. Just how dirty does he think his apartment is? 

He’s balancing on the balls of his heels now- thumbs sticking out of his jean pockets. The blond’s looking away awkwardly as Taichi gets changed on the floor. As if he didn’t spend the last however-long with him in just his underwear. He guesses It’s less awkward than just staring at him. Making eye contact would just be weird. Somehow that seems more intimate.

“Aren’t you going to help me up?” He jokes, but still finds the words escaping from his mouth before he has time to think. He didn’t consciously decide to say that- but his subconscious probably just wants to just touch Yamato’s hand or something like that. Cool. Good to know he’s head-over-heels consistently throughout his mind.

Yamato sneers. “Help yourself up, you big baby.”

“Awh, come on. Pretty please?” Taichi pleads, extending his own hand out first to encourage Yamato to grab it. Wiggling his fingers, too. Not in an entitled way. Just annoying.

Taichi watches Yamato’s eyes trail up his arm up to his face, pausing for a few moments before he sighs, rolling his eyes, and grabs Taichi’s hand. Victory. 

Yamato pulled him up, Taichi was lazily not putting any effort into it, letting Yamato basically just carry him up. He almost tumbles into Yamato, actually, but caught himself on the hallway wall. “Damn, you’re heavier than you used to be.” Yamato huffs.

Taichi smiles. “That’s all muscle, baby. It’s my thick ass soccer thighs I’m telling you.” He slaps his thighs loudly, and Yamato snorts indignantly.

They start to make their way out of the apartment. Taichi’s still putting his shoes on while Yamato adds on, “Or you just got fatter.” Taichi snorts. Yamato starts pinching Taichi’s cheek, for emphasis, or something. That seems to be his go-to thing recently.

Taichi’s eyebrows waggle up, “You just stared at me for a couple minutes in my underwear. You tell me.” 

Yamato elbows him out the door, “You’re acting like I had any other choice. You’re such an ass, Taichi.”

Taichi just sticks his tongue out in response. 

  
  


He pretends he doesn’t notice how close together they walk on the way out down to the car. Maybe it is just cold outside.

\----

  
  


Taichi feels out of place. He’s surrounded by a bunch of professional and serious music people and he’s just kinda following Yamato around like a lost puppy. He has no idea what’s going on.

This building is huge, too. He’s pretty sure he’ll get lost if he wanders too far. He’s memorized some of the main areas, for the most part. Yamato seems to know where he’s going but Taichi is probably going to need to make himself a map. Maybe they were handing maps out at the front desk, who knows.

It’s a lot of walking back and forth, Taichi realizes. Yamato has to check in at a couple different places to inform or check that things are going well, while the rest of the band members set up- whatever the hell they’re doing. Taichi is just at a loss for what to do. He feels like he should be helping- but Yamato just seems to want him to follow him around. He even offered to help, too, but Yamato ignored him, saying something along the lines of “you’re just going to break something.”

They got their own practice room. They’re not just practicing on the actual stage as Taichi thought. Which makes sense- and that’s probably pretty standard, but the only practice rooms Taichi’s been in were the ones at his school. They were like, 8 by 8 feet. Max. And they had that weird spaghetti-like wall texture over them that was spray-painted white. Not exactly classy. Or high-budget. 

_ These  _ practice rooms are like miniature stages. And if he remembers anything from grade 4 science class- they seem like they’re built to replicate how it sounds like on the actual stage. There are a couple other practice rooms too, but from what Taichi can tell- they’re empty. Taichi was given a lanyard with “K.O.D” written on the back- and “SPECIAL ACCESS” on the front- so he assumes he’s allowed wherever at this point. He might check the rooms out later.

Yamato’s kinda stressed. Everything seems to be going fine on the last minute checks- but he just must be nervous about performing here. It’s probably one of the bigger concerts he’s had- ever. 

Taichi’s tempted to hold his hand. They used to do that a lot when they were younger for comfort. They kinda stopped, after they got older, though. Pretended they were too old and too cool for that kind of stuff. You could look at two kids holding hands and you wouldn’t bat an eye- but as soon as two teens or adults do it you assume they’re in a relationship. It makes sense, why they stopped, really. 

It just solidified that they won’t hold hands anymore after that battle, a year ago. Taichi had chosen to bump Yamato’s hand instead of holding it- and that was that.

On one of their down moments- while they were in the practice room waiting for Koji (one of the band members), to get back from the washroom- Taichi decided, fuck it. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder- he quietly took Yamato’s hand in his own- and gave it a quick squeeze, before letting go. A personal and private reassurance. 

Yamato turned to look at him and Taichi flashed him a smile. Yamato’s shoulder’s untensed. Suddenly, they’re 11 again.

Before Taichi knew it they were practicing in the practice room. Rehearsing- triple-checking- quadruple checking everything. They were only playing their songs in fragments- but Taichi was still able to recognize what they were playing nevertheless. He was off to the side sitting in a spare orchestra chair minding his own business for a while- before Yamato finally decided to kick him out of the room. Saying something along the lines of “Your stupidness is distracting me. Go fuck off somewhere for a bit.” while he was pushing him out of the room- to which Taichi flipped him off. Whatever. 

It’s only after he’s built his third chair-fort in one of the spare rooms he realized that- this would probably be a pretty good time to confess to Yamato. Not now, of course- but after the show, while he’s still in one of his post-show highs. He’d probably react the best then. 

Not that Taichi really expects him to react badly- but at least if he did it after the show he wouldn’t ruin the blond’s  _ entire  _ night. He did say to himself that he was going to tell him tonight. Fuck having cold feet. Digest those butterflies.

He hears an announcement blare through the speaker- announcing that the set’s starting in 5- and he realizes he should probably hurry his ass over to the auditorium before Yamato hunts him down and pulverizes Taichi, or something.

\----

  
  


After Yamato’s set ended- Taichi finds himself waiting in the hallway with all of the other practice rooms. Yamato’s gonna be swarmed for the next little bit so it’s best if he waits this one out. Being a stupidly hot lead singer does that to someone. That man is like a pheromone machine.

Taichi didn’t end up figuring where the hell everything was, either, so he’s just sticking to the places he can actually remember. Which is like. One place. He really should’ve drawn a map instead of fucking around in the practice rooms.

The halls are empty and his ass is cold from sitting on the floor. He’s on his phone playing a ported version of Donkey Madness that Taichi got Koushiro to install for him. He can hear muffled chatter and music coming in from down the corridor to where the main area is. 

Taichi would honestly rather be sitting anywhere else right now- but he’s afraid he’ll miss Yamato when he finally makes his ass back here. Taichi’s hyperactive and he doesn’t bode well sitting in one place for too long. It’s just constant foot-tapping and leg bouncing. 

Daisuke is worse than him, though. The two of them make quite the tag-team when it comes to annoying the shit out of people with the clicks of their pens or the taps of their heels. Or just, in general, too.

Not long after, his eye catches a blond head turn down the corner- and Taichi immediately stands up with a casual stretch. It’s Yamato. And he’s alone, too, for some reason. 

“Hey, stranger,” Taichi jokes, walking over to the other to greet him. “You’re back early. Miss me?”

“Yeah,” Yamato admits. Taichi falters in his stride, his eyebrows shooting up. Yamato doesn’t elaborate, though, only grabs Taichi’s arm and starts to drag him into one of the spare practice rooms. “Come with me for a ‘sec.”

Yamato drags him into the closest room and closes the door behind them- not bothering to turn on the lights. Taichi feels like he’s going to get lectured. Like after that one time he almost got a concussion when playing soccer and didn’t tell Yamato. And also tried to hide it from him, too.

Yamato opens his mouth to say something- but promptly closes it when his eye catches the chair-fort Taichi had built in the room. 

“Hey, what the fuck is that.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Taichi grins “I did that.” He honestly forgot that he didn’t take it down. 

“Why would you-” Yamato starts, only to cut himself off- realigning himself to get back on track. Whatever ‘on track’ is, anyway. “Actually, I’m not even going to ask.”

“I don’t know what you expected me to do after you expelled me from the practice room.” He laughs. The room is quiet. Too quiet. Practice rooms sound more quiet than they have any right to be when you’re not making noise in them.

“I feel like I should’ve expected this.” 

“You should’ve.”

Silence. Another pause. They’re becoming more frequent recently, he realizes. The awkward pauses in their conversations. Not the normal ones- but-  _ these  _ ones. Taichi can’t help but wonder if they’re his fault. 

It’s not a bad thing, really. Silences in conversations aren’t bad. He used to hate them when he was younger but he’s grown to appreciate it. They’re kinda used to comfortable silence. But these are different. Weirder. There’s always a lingering feeling in the air that’s heavy. Sorta sweet- but it’s like cake with too much sugar in it, there’s always pressure. It’s hard to explain. 

It’s mutual, too. It’s something that’s delicate. That could turn sour at any moment or go sweet. It makes his head spin and his movements frantic.

He’s just gonna bite the bullet. Fuck it. Just call it out. Taichi’s always been good at stating the obvious.

“Hey, stop thinking about me.” Taichi blurts. “I know I’m amazing, but this silence is kinda weird.”

“Very funny,” Yamato snorts, rolling his eyes. He sounds amused for only a moment.

Yamato’s tone goes dead. Not making eye-contact. Distant. Though only a few short moments later does he impassively agree, echoing Taichi’s previous thought. Taichi gets the innate feeling they’re digging into something they shouldn’t. “They’re becoming more frequent.”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “they are.”

Another pause. He should just say it. Now. There’s no point holding off any longer. He’s gonna like combust if he does.

Yamato opens his mouth to speak- with a deep breath preparing him beforehand, “Hey-”

“I like you.” Taichi interrupts.

The air thickens. Taichi feels like he’s going to puke.

“What?” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me, asshole,” Taichi almost wants to roll his eyes. He wants to. It’s so ludicrous. It’s so ridiculous. It’s so stupid. They both know exactly what Taichi said. He can feel his own pulse. “I said. I like you.”

There’s another pause- and Taichi watches Yamato’s face morph from being confused- to surprised, to a harsh frown.

“No.” Yamato all but growls, Taichi watches him unconsciously take a step back. “Fuck you. You can’t be serious right now.”

Oh.

He opens his mouth to speak- but then closes it with a soft click. This isn’t going how he thought it would. 

“That doesn’t have to change anything, Yamato, I just wa-”

“No, you fucking asshat,” Yamato interrupts, this time. He doesn’t sound mad. Just- frustrated. His eyes catch Taichi’s face and instantly his voice softens. “Sorry- I just.” The words are on the tip of his tongue- he’s holding in air- holding onto every last breath. “I can’t believe this right now.” 

Taichi opens his mouth to question him but Yamato quickly covers his mouth with his hand to keep him from talking. He presses him against the wall, for good measure, too. Because god knows Taichi would probably just take a step back to speak otherwise. “No. Shut up for a moment, would you?” Taichi just blinks at him- before nodding, slowly. Yamato removes his hand.

“You’re such a jerk, you know that right?” Yamato asks. Well, not really asks. He more or less just states it. Taichi doesn’t know how to respond. Or if he even should respond, for that matter. It sounds rhetorical. 

Yamato digs his hand into his hair- and gives it a slight tug, before sighing. He closes his eyes- looking pensive. “I was, like, literally just going to tell you that I like you, asshole. I’ve been trying to do this for practically months now.”

Oh. 

_ Oh. _

“You-. We. I-” Taichi fumbles.  _ Oh _ . What the fuck.

He doesn’t continue on for long though, as Yamato quickly slides his hand over Taichi’s mouth again. 

“God, do you ever shut up?” Yamato rolls his eyes. He’s definitely not upset. He sounds vaguely amused, actually. Taichi thinks he can make out a grin on the other’s face too. 

_ God,  _ Yamato can be so fucking hot when he’s being a jerk. Especially when he’s also pressing Taichi up against a fucking  _ wall _ . This is straight out of some shitty ass fanfiction. Or those weird romance stories his sister used to read. They’re the same thing, practically, right?

Yamato’s grin starts to fade as it’s replaced with a focused, yet annoyed frown. His mouth opens, returning to the previous topic, “I can’t believe this shit. I hate you. I’ve been trying to say this for months now- and I made up that bullcrap about Takeru having to cancel- and I was going to take you on a stupid walk and then tell you- I had it all planned out- but-” he raises his volume “but then you just fucking? Said it? You just fucking said it outright? I just-”

He sighs. Deflating.

“God.” Yamato breathes out. It kinda sounds more like a groan, actually. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” Taichi echos.

“Yeah. Fuck you.”

Taichi erupts with a grin. His inner 13-year-old taking control, mind on auto-pilot, “Freudian slip?” 

Yamato instantly pauses. His face quickly changes into a frown when he realizes what Taichi meant. 

“That’s it. We can’t be friends anymore. You’re not funny.”

Taichi laughs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I happen to be the funniest person I know. I’m pretty charming, too. I just got it all going for me.” 

He’s never been good at dealing with emotions, with other people’s emotions- with his own emotions, and everything in between. But he can’t help but notice how the weird air around them is gone. Things aren’t quite all okay yet, but they’re getting there. There’s a weight off of his chest which he didn’t really realize was weighing him down in the first place.

Yamato rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, uh-huh. You’re a real riot, Taichi” 

Taichi tilts his head back, “You love it, don’t lie.”

Yamato mirrors the movement, with a grin. Taichi’s heart flutters dangerously. “Yeah,” he says.

“So do we get to kiss now or-” 

Taichi starts- though is interrupted as Yamato grabs his shirt; yanking him forward to mash their faces together in a kiss. Taichi’s mind is swimming.

“You’re the worst.” Yamato breathes out, breaking apart for air.

Yeah, fuck whatever he said before about kissing another guy being gross.

“I prefer charming,” Taichi smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr n insta! mostly active on tumblr though  
> itz @cerakuro for both. i just draw, really.


End file.
